(Secret of) Mana
by Ilysanth
Summary: Set in the Cold War between the Sith Empire and the Galactic Republic after the end of the Great Galactic War (3651 BBY - onward), the rogue Sith Lord Falrun gathers forces to cripple the Sith Empire for his own agenda. Sending his very best followers, he tries to discover ancient secrets left behind from earlier times. This story follows some of the "Nomad"'s findings.
1. Disclaimer

By no means will this story be completely accurate to both worlds. With that being said, this story will also mix in certain elements from other sources, and the end result may or may not reflect the direction either series takes. 


	2. Prologue: Scions of Fate

Accessing memory core...

Access granted. Playing back recording V-37...

"Greetings, Nomad." A figureless voice plays from the worn droid. Its model did not show on the Imperial records the Nomad pilfered, and it looked as if it was made several millenia ago, but its design didn't match with any of the other ancient droid designs. What's even more odd was that the droid had been throwing fireballs, lightning, and even repairing itself with unfamiliar yellow lights without so much as a single, quick whisper of a word every time. How did it even know who the Nomad was? She wondered. "Do not be alarmed, young one. I am unable to reach you with this rusty contraption, but never think yourself safe. Of course, if the stars are correct, you would know perfectly well how the dangers of war are always where you least expect them."

"Who are you?" The Nomad looks around, unable to find the direction of the voice, even if she knows it is playing from the droid itself...or is it? Even that is hard to tell.

"Names are pretty, but useless. A wise woman once said. She was part of your Sith once until she was murdered by your fool politics and power grabbing. However, you may call me Cyclone. It is - was - the brand of the droid before they simplified their names. I was part of a glorious empire that had the symbol of a white rose emblazoned on their armor. The Empire of Lannister. Ever hear of that, Nomad?"

The Nomad shakes her head. "Imperial records don't say much about you. What were you? Why does this droid know how to use the force?"

"The force..." Cyclone trails off, then his voice lets out an echoing laugh. "Ah, but of course. Fate has a sense of humor after all."

"Are you going to answer my question?"

"In time, perhaps. First tell me this. Why have you captured this droid, destroyed valuable technology, and called my droids toasters?"

"They weren't..." The Nomad rolls her eyes. "The Empire's looking for lost technology to help them win the war against the Republic."

Cyclone laughs. "Spoken like a true agent of dissonance. Just enough lies to stay hidden underneath the facts."

The Nomad shrugs. "So you really know why I'm here." Does he? It wouldn't be far off, considering the other wierd things here.

"Ah, I know many things of the galaxy we live in. The wars, the schemes, the in-fighting, the list goes on and on...but never changes, even after all these years. Before I answer your questions. Tell me, what is your opinion on the Jedi and the Sith?"

The Nomad scoffs. "The Jedi are weak and inefficient while the Sith are insane and reckless."

Cyclone doesn't say anything for a brief moment. "Most people agree, and some would say they have reason to act as such. You came here to fetch my people's forgotten lore for your rogue Sith Lords. Tell me, do you think they are any different? Will they build the Empire you dream?"

"They're willing to do anything it takes to end this war and change the Empire. What else is there to it?"

"Many men and women said the same thing when they followed Revan into the abyss of the world. In the end, they were cast out of the Jedi Order and turned into the very beings they fought so hard against. My people rallied under the banner of a man who wished the complete and utter annihilation of the Dragon who enslaved us all. In the end, we were put to the chain once more by the descendent of the Dragon we killed. Our infighting made us weak, and we could not fight a foe that commanded the spirits of the dead, that swallowed our fire, and burned our weapons with a single exhale. Later, when we took up arms against the descendent, we met more and more infighting. We awakened a terrible evil that nearly destroyed us all, and we were still chained."

The Nomad sighs. "And what's your point? We're not fighting a dragon, or Mandalorians."

"You are repeating history. Both your Sith and your Jedi. But, there is no stopping your duty, is there? You came here to learn of my secrets, and I shall tell you. Touch the Droid's head gently, and all of your questions will be answered in due time."

The Nomad hesitantly steps up and touches the Droid's head...


	3. 1: No Need for Sith Alchemy

The instant I touched the Droid, I was surrounded by swirling, purple mist. fearing a trap, I quickly tried to draw my blaster, but for some reason, my entire lower body was disappearing along with the rest of me. Eventually, my vision faded away, and I found myself in a room with maybe five or six men and women huddling around a paper map of some place I never saw before. The land looked...smaller than Manaan. There seemed to be more things packed in such a smaller place. My hearing didn't focus until some time passed, and I thought I was going crazy when I had a clear look at the people. They were dressed in some form of clothing using outdated materials. Later, I found out they were using things like "cawton" and "leenen".

"...storehouse was raided the other day." A man points to a place on the map, next to the water and with some sort of building on it.

A woman sighed and shook her head. "The Mana Wizard gets stronger with each passing day. Did we at least secure the artifacts there?"

The man nods. "Yes, but not...that one."

I looked at him and asked in a voice that surprised me but not everyone else. it seemed as if I was much younger with some sort of accent from a Hutt. To be honest, it was much worse than their accents. "What one? A book? A staff?"

The others seem to look at each other uncomfortably until the woman looked at me and said, "You weren't there when we found it, but it's a sword. Not a normal artifact, either. The blade seems to glow and emits a different color depending on the user, but it doesn't have a blade itself." The blade sounded somewhat like a lightsaber, but I've never heard of a lightsaber that changes colors...and I looked at them like they were stupid.

However, they somehow weren't insulted, and I wondered if I even pulled off that face at the time. I continued speaking, but it felt as if someone was guiding my words. "I've never heard of anything like that. Does it amplify incantations or something?" Apparently, incantations are supposed to be spoken words that invoke spells, or similar to the force in a way. However, wizards, or people that can use incantations must be born with the gift. So, this is not what we are seeking, my lord, but the story doesn't end there.

One of the younger men shrugs. "We were hoping to find out. Our tests haven't really came up with anything except that it can slice most objects without making them bleed. A sort of...instant cauterization. Hell, the blade itself is so hot when lit that it can sometimes light a fireplace if it's close enough."

Another man chuckles. "Gratz to the bro that figured that out." They high fived...for some odd reason. Still don't know what he said.

The woman who mentioned the Mana Wizard sighs loudly and adjusts her long mane of black hair. "Then that idiot of a wizard has it."

"Afraid so, Lady Longbranch." The other woman says to her with a sigh.

Lady Longbranch, who was later called Jessamine Longbranch, High Wizard of the Lannister Rebels, Mistress of the White Rose, and perhaps some other few titles, slammed her fists on the map and growled lowly. "I want you to secure that artifact back! Do not rest until we get it. Put everything else on hold if you have to."

"But, my lady, what if the dragon…"

"Forget the dragon." Jessamine looked at the person who spoke up. "I defied death once at her hands; I will do it again."

Yes, death, my lord. It seems that these backward heretics know much more than we previously thought.


End file.
